Death by Chocolate
by happy molecule
Summary: After Sam dies, SG1 must deal with the aftermath, whilst Sam tries adapt to her life after life.
1. Business meetings

A/N: I got this idea from this great little show on cable called "Dead like me". For anyone in Australia with either cable (optus/foxtel) it's on Fox 8, Monday nights at 8:30 aus east coast daylight savings time… Set post-threads, so there's not Pete! YAY! Sections in brackets are character asides…

Sam yawned and rolled over. 5:30 am. She stretched for a moment and lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she could be bothered going to work. She didn't actually have to go in to work today – for once – but the General had begged her to sit through his annual finance meeting with him. She didn't know whether to feel complimented or not – did he find her so enthralling that she could make even a business meeting interesting, or was she just his play toy? She yawned once more. On the other hand ("there are 5 fingers", she could hear jack's voice say in the back of her mind) it was a chance to spend some more time with him – get to know the workings of the base better. She was 2IC of it now, after all. Sam yawned again and, sighing, rolled out of bed. He owed her _big time_.

Jack sat, head perched on his hand, trying desperately not to fall asleep as the man in front of him droned on and on (and on and on and on…) about the conventions and – actually, Jack wasn't sure the man was even speaking English anymore. God he was bored. Oh so bored. He was sure the only reason he had these meetings only once a year was because they lasted for a whole year. He felt his mind shutting down and wondered if it was actually possible to die from boredom. _Carter is so dead, _he thought, stifling another yawn as the accountant continued to prattle on about a stale economy or whatever. Actually, he didn't blame Carter for ditching him. Ok, so he did, but he could understand why. Even _Jonas_ would find this meeting boring.

A sudden knock on the door made him jump. Everyone stared at him as Daniel entered the room. Jack leapt from his chair and practically ran to the man. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so happy to see his favourite archaeologist. (Probably the last time he'd come back from the dead. In other words – yesterday).

"Daniel, what's up?" _Please let it be something important; please let it be something important…_

"Uh," Daniel looked up, pain and sorrow clear in his watery blue eyes. "Sam's dead."


	2. Life goes on after death

A/N: yay! I'm so glad someone besides me has seen dead like me! You rock spacemonkeylover! For all those in the UK, Dead like me is on sky one on Wednesday, 9pm. Sorry for the delay in posting, I was having so much trouble writing this chap! I'm so not used to angst…

Jack felt his heart constrict. "She's _what!"_

"She died. This morning. On the way to work."

_Gee, thanks for the abundance of info there Daniel. _

"How?"

"She ate a peanut m and m and had an allergic reaction and then she died…"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "She died from _chocolate_!"

"Technically peanut m and m's aren't chocolate. They're nuts…"

Daniel's eyes began to tear and Jack felt a wave of sympathy for the man. This had to be hard for him too. He put his arm around Daniel's shoulder and led him out of the briefing room. He turned and said over his shoulder,

"Meeting adjourned. Get Walter to schedule another one."

He didn't know how, but somehow they had ended in up in Carter's office. He figured it was habit. Daniel took one look at their surroundings and began to sob quietly. Jack pulled him into a hug. The pair stood there for a moment, finding a strange sense of comfort within their shared misery. A quiet sound from the corner, so soft to most it would have gone unnoticed, drew them from their reverie. Jack looked up to see Teal'c shrugged over in Sam's – she was dead now, he could call her that – chair. Daniel went and sat on the table next to the jaffa. Just sat there, not saying anything, just quietly trying to find a way to work through their personal despair.

Jack leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. He still couldn't believe it – she couldn't be dead. Sam never died. She wasn't supposed to die. She was supposed to be alive, working waaaay too hard in her lab, and one day he would retire and they'd - she wasn't supposed to be dead. Especially from a peanut m and m. She didn't even _like _peanut m and m's! It was all because of that stupid bet – Danny had bet Sam she couldn't go 2 weeks without jello, lollies, chocolate, etc. So she's probably gotten sugar cravings and gotten peanut m and m's, which, apparently, aren't technically chocolate. And so she'd died. It was quite ironic. He wondered if she was giggling at it all right now. Probably.

Jack wasn't a big believer of the whole "heaven and hell" scene, but he couldn't accept the fact that once someone died, that was it. Daniel was proof enough of that. Although he couldn't really see Sam "ascending to a higher plain of existence". Despite himself, he laughed. The thought of Oma Desala trying to convince his former-2IC that she was now "energy", not atoms and cells or whatever, was just too good. A meek knock interrupted him.

"Sorry to bother you, General." It was Walter. "Ah, there's been an incident and you're required in the infirmary."

"Oh for crying out loud…" Jack rolled his eyes. Siler must have electrocuted himself again. Why _he _wasn't energy by now was beyond him. "I'll be right down."

_And life goes on after death…_


	3. and life goes on after life

A/N: I just found out that the waffle house used in Threads is actually Der Waffle Haus from Dead Like Me! How cool is that!

Sam made her way across the street, wondering what was happening. A crowd had gathered, and everyone was shoving to get a closer look at….something…. She stood on her toes. Thanks god for her height. From what she could see, a young man was trying to revive a woman. So far, it didn't seem to be working. The shriek of an ambulance announced its arrival, and the crowd dispersed, making way for the paramedics, and allowing Sam to get a better view –

of herself.

Sam burst into a mix of hysterical giggles and sobs. When the hell had she died! Behind her, the paramedics continued working on her lifeless corpse.

"Charging to 360…"

"Clear!"

_Things do not appear to be going so well…_She snorted. Well _that _was the understatement of the century.

"Are you ok?" a man she didn't know asked.

She stared at him. For the first time in her life, she was lost for words.

"I'm – I'm –"

"Dead?" he filled in. The word made her feel like she'd snorted wiz fizz. Her brain started spinning and she exploded, "How the hell can I be dead! WHY am I dead! I'm 36 for crying out loud! No-one dies at 36!"

"Everyone's got an appointment. Yours just happened to be now."

"But I didn't make an appointment."

"You didn't have to. It was made for you."

"Can't you just…unmake it for me?"

"Sorry, peanut. Everybody's gotta die sooner or later."

"Excuse me! _Peanut!_"

Slowly it dawned on her. _Oh no… I died eating peanut m and m's! _Sam cracked up laughing. She laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed until tears streamed down her face. After 8 years at the SGC, being tortured and shot and blended and infected with alien viruses and blowing up suns and having her mind downloaded into computers and so on and so forth, etc (man she got tired just _thinking_ about her SGC life!), she'd died from eating a peanut m and m. Death had a wicked sense of humour.

"So, what now? Are you here to help me ascend?"

"Sorry, there's no onwards and upwards for you."

"You're sending me to hell!" Sam screeched. "You dick!"

"No, no, you're not going anywhere."

"So, I'm…what?"

The man smiled at her, a nice, reassuring smile.

"Do you remember that homeless guy who asked you your name right before you died?"

"Yeah." _He had that whole creepy stalker thing going on. Quite like Pete, actually…_

"Well, he was one of the undead."

"What, you mean, a zombie?"

"No, a reaper. You see, when someone dies, someone needs to be there to remove their souls. That's the reaper's job."

"Remove their _what!_"

"Their souls. You know – spirit, essence, life force. That kind of thing."

Sam snorted.

"Well, what do you think you are now?"

She thought about it for a moment. The scientific part of her mind – the part that was currently trying to put this all down to some kind of hallucinogenic plant from P4X – 527 – scoffed at the idea of a soul, whilst the other part - the normal part, if you will, that had seen Daniel die and come back to life more times than a soapie star, considered the idea. Finally, she decided an experiment to test this hypothesis was in order. Sam bent to pick a rock and gaped as her hand passed straight through it. She looked up at the man, who simply looked back at her. _Screw him and the horse he rode in on, _Sam thought harshly. That damn friendly, wise image was starting to get annoying. She felt like shouting at him for a while, maybe slamming him against a wall O'Neill-style. But though that might make her feel better, frankly, it wouldn't get her anywhere. She sighed.

"So, what does being a reaper entail?"

He smiled.

"Feel like a waffle, peanut?"


	4. The Wake

A/N: Sorry for the long delay in postings. Exams and writer's block do not a chapter write. This chap is pretty angsty but the next few are going to be a bit more humorous I swear. And don't ask me what an anion or a cation is. I'm currently failing chem….

The wake. Her wake. She wasn't exactly sure why she was here, but Rube – the "reaper" she'd met after she'd died – had forced her to make an appearance. Well, not exactly "forced" her – that wasn't his way. Rube had explained to her that since she was still undead, and technically not a reaper, she didn't have a physical form and therefore no-one could see her. She couldn't interact with the real world. Of course, she'd shot back that it was pointless for her to attend, since no-one would know whether she was there or not. Then he'd told her that sometimes it helped to give a person closure or whatever (she kinda tuned out at that point; the kinda cute waiter had arrived with her chocolate pancakes) and then he'd given her this glance and she'd suddenly found herself walking towards the General's house, wondering when she'd decided that attending her own wake was a good idea.

Everyone from the SGC, and even some outsiders, was here – hell, even Thor was here! She felt touched. Sure, she knew she was pretty well-liked at the SGC, but the fact that _everyone_ was here… Rube excused himself on a quest to the buffet table (he, unlike her, was a reaper and had a physical form, albeit different-looking to what he had been when he was alive. Therefore, he was able to eat) and Sam decided to go check up on her team.

Teal'c was the easiest to find; he stood out like an anion amongst a group of cations. He was standing by a table of food (surprise, surprise), trying to explain to Ry'ac and Ish'ta the purpose of a wake. She was impressed – it seemed most of the leaders of the Free Jaffa Nation had turned up to honour her memory. Bra'tac joined the group, bringing with him a neatly dressed and alive (for once; the two factors seemed to be mutually exclusive) Daniel. Daniel immediately launched into a spiel on the significance of a wake in Western culture. Teal'c rolled his eyes and smiled faintly at Bra'tac, who smiled back. Sam smirked. Those two had spent way too much time on Earth.

Sam felt slightly better seeing the two together. Teal'c was coping – he always did. It was the Jaffa way. Daniel would be too. The dark shadows under his red-tinged eyes, highlighting slightly prominent cheekbones, were proof that her death had been hard on him. But going by the way he was laughing at himself right now, he'd survive. After all, he was the expert on death.

And so that left one other person – Jack O'Neill. The person she'd been looking forward to seeing the least. Sam quickly scanned the room again. No General. Sam frowned. Where the hell was he!

Jack looked around his lounge room, currently occupied by pretty much the entire staff of the SGC, as well as some others – hell, even Thor was here! – who were celebrating Sam's life. And by celebrating, he meant reminiscing sadly. Aargh. In the words of Comic Book Store Guy, this was a contender for worst day EVER. Worse than the Doc's. Her's had been pretty bad but this...this was Sam's. Not that Sam's death was any more important that Janet's, except it was and it...he just… He couldn't do this. He downed his Guinness, dodged a cluster of scientists arguing something or other and proceeded down the hallway to his room.

Jack threw himself onto his bed, not caring about the clothes and other items strewn across it. Neatness was for Swedish cleaning ladies. He flinched as he heard a crunch. Slowly, he rolled over and picked up his beloved sunglasses, which had been lying under a pair of jeans that were at risk of getting up and going on some weird kind of rampage.

"D'oh…!"

They were the ones his team had rescued for him last year, after he'd lost them (as well as all his clothing besides his boxers) in a game of poker to Major Sheppard. Hey, who knew the kid was the poker champ of college? _Sam did, _a little voice in the back of his head which he chose to ignore kindly reminded him. Anyways, after laughing at him for about 10 minutes straight - well Teal'c didn't laugh. He raised his eyebrow and sort of smiled. Daniel sniggered (he didn't laugh as much since descending. And he'd gotten a lot more sarcastic. Cheeky little bugger), more at his boxers than anything (hey, how was he s'posed to know that he'd be losing his pants when he'd put on his "I'm with stupid" boxers – complete with the arrow pointing at his groin?) and Sam…well Sam laughed so hard she ended up choking and spent the next 20 mins in the infirmary getting acquainted with Antarctica's newest oxygen mask. Anyhoo, sometime that night, his team had devised a dastardly devious plan to rescue said shades, involving torches, duct tape and a certain Rodney McKay (or something like that, he'd gotten lost somewhere between Sam's, "Well, sir, we came up with this plan…actually it was mostly Teal'c's idea.." and Daniel's, "something something blah here's your sunglasses." And now he'd snapped them….

Daniel looked around the room, desperately trying to catch sight of Jack. This man had been droning on for what seemed like hours, and Daniel really needed to leave. Now. Where was Jack? _Come to think of it, I haven't seen him for a while…_

"Ah, excuse me, I have to go…and find my friend…" Daniel walked off, leaving the man staring. "Teal'c, have u seen Jack?"

"Indeed I have not, Daniel Jackson."

"Oh, ok then." Daniel's brow furrowed. Where had he gone?

Daniel stared at the door. He checked everywhere else, Jack _had_ to be here. He knew he should go in; it was one of his best friend's, a best friend who was currently grieving over the death of someone he – someone close to him. On the other hand, it was Jack, who was likely to bite his head off. It was an interesting dilemma. One that he wished Sam was hear to help him deal with.

"Traitor," he whispered to the ceiling. She'd gone and left him all alone to deal with an emotional Jack. At least he'd said goodbye.

"Daniel, I know you're outside."

_Damn_. Daniel sighed and walked in the room.

"I could hear you breathing."

Ok, so his hay fever had been playing up, but his breathing wasn't THAT loud….

"Do you remember what Sam named these?"

_What? _Daniel looked up to see Jack looking down at a pair of sunglasses; snapped into three pieces.

"Jay," Jack answered his own question.

Daniel smiled. "She said they made you look kinda bug-eyed, like Poochie the dog."

"Who was voiced by Homer JAY Simpson."

"I think there was something in that oxygen..."

"Ya think!"

Both smiled and fell silent again.

"Sam was the master of awkward pauses."

Daniel felt his eyebrow raise (Teal'c would be so proud...) Sam?

Jack continued. "She always had to think through everything she was going to say. Calculate all the different things she could say, weigh all her options, consider all the scenarios, think things through…"

Daniel cocked his head.

"Jack, why are you doing this?"

"I'm reminiscing, _Dr _Daniel, isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing?"

"Jack, stop the sarcasm and the cynicism and –"

"- Danny –"

"JACK, WILL YOU SHUT UP FOR A SECOND!"

Silence. _Wow, I did it. I finally shut up Jack O'Neill…_

"You have to stop torturing yourself like this. It's not healthy."

"What do you want me to do, oh wise and wonderful Daniel? Take the all-American approach and drown my sorrows in a bottomless glass that only lasts till I get to the bottom?"

_I knew it couldn't last..._

"Or something else? You always tell me I should "broaden my cultural horizons". Did you know the Moroccans dance for 4 days straight after someone dies? For four whole days. Just dance."

Daniel rolled his eyes and looked away. Jack continued.

"Or what about the British way?" Jack put on an incredibly bad English accent. "Terribly sorry, chaps, but the love of my life seems to have died…"

Daniel raised an eyebrow (twice in 5 minutes. Teal'c WOULDbe proud!)

"The love of your life?"

"It's an expression."

Daniel sighed and stood up to walk away. He didn't know why he came, what difference he thought he could make to this brick wall. Jack was _incorrigible. _

"Daniel," Jack said in a way that compelled Daniel to stop and look at him. For the first time today – actually, since they'd found out Sam had died – Jack looked at him. Really looked at him. Daniel felt like a deer trapped in headlights made of pain and sorrow and hopelessness and despair, and the he saw something he'd never seen before, something he thought he'd never see: tears. "I'd howl at the moon if I thought it would help."


End file.
